


I Could Do Without A Tan On My Left Hand

by fookinglousers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Awkward Dates, Blind Date, Fluffy Ending, Gemma tries, It all works out though, M/M, and fails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 03:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8128460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fookinglousers/pseuds/fookinglousers
Summary: The five times Harry's blind dates go horribly wrong and the one time it goes horribly right.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A self indulgent 5 + 1 fic. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> [not edited, any mistakes are my own, feel free to point them out!]

- _one_ -

 

Harry is perpetually single, as his sister Gemma so loves to point out at any given moment. It irks her to no end when he shows up at family functions, carrying only himself through the door. He's never been quite sure why it bothers her so much;  _he's_ the one who has to go home alone every night. Maybe it's seeing everyone else around them growing up, getting married and by now, having babies. She herself has been happily married for almost three years now, and at this point, they're trying for a baby. So it shouldn't come as any surprise that she calls him up on a Monday morning with only one thing in mind. 

"I've set you up on a blind date." Is what she says by way of hello, almost sending him into a choking fit with his bagel. 

After he pulls himself together, he begins shaking his head. "No. No, _no_. Not happening." He's aware of the fact that she can't see how adamantly he's refusing this right now, so he puts extreme emphasis on every word, just to get his point across. 

Alas, it has no effect. Gemma continues on, unperturbed. "He's twenty eight, lives in London and works at an office downtown. Louise says he's lovely, just your type."

Harry has to scoff. He doesn't even think he _has_ a type, let alone that his sister would know what it was. He hasn't dated in well over four years and even that's hardly something he considers dating. This has bad idea written all over it. "Gemma, _honestly_. I'm not doing this." 

His protests fall on deaf ears yet again. Gemma's tone is smug as she says, "It's Thursday, six o'clock at that cute little italian place a few blocks from yours. Let me know how it goes, Haz." With that she hangs up, leaving Harry irritated and slightly amused. 

 

 

Come Thursday, he's in a right state. His mind is turning over whether he should go through with this or not. He's never been on a bloody blind date before so his nerves are shot as he slips on his shoes. He can't very well _not_ show, that's extremely rude and he doesn't think he has it in him to do that to whatever poor bloke will be inevitably waiting for him. He questions himself as to why he's even doing this as he walks the short way to the italian place Gemma had said, sighing when he gets there. He figures he might as well make an appearance and maybe even get a free meal. 

When he walks in, he tells the waiter that greets him that he's here for a blind date, flushing as he admits it. The waiter seems to know exactly where his date is and leads him to a table in the corner of the warm restaurant. There's a man sitting there, looking much older than twenty eight, his fingers tapping away at the white table cloth. When he sees Harry, he beams. Harry thanks the waiter, requesting a water and turns back to his date shyly. 

"You must be Harry," The man sticks out a rather meaty hand for Harry to shake. "I'm Milton. It's a pleasure. Louise has told me so much about you." 

 _Milton_. Harry is almost one hundred percent sure that this guy is _not_ the age that Gemma had specified. 

Still, he pulls through, if only because Milton seems genuine in his interest. "Lovely to meet you. I'm afraid neither Louise or my sister have said much about you, Milton. Must've wanted to keep it all a surprise." He grins charmingly at the man in front of him, despite himself. 

Milton smiles back, a wide smile. "Well, I'm forty eight." Ah, there it is. "I work in downtown London and I've known Louise since she was a child." 

He goes on to explain exactly what he does, which is impressive in Harry's opinion, not so subtly hinting at how much he makes, also impressive. He tells Harry stories about Louise and how he knows her family, mentioning a bit about how far back he and her father go. By the time their meal is served, Harry's got an inkling that this man and Robin would probably hit it off. 

He's much too old for Harry's taste and much too similar to his step father to be comfortable with. Milton seems like a lovely guy, he really does, but he's not what Harry's looking for. When the check rolls around, Milton happily pays, pulling out a wad of cash that has Harry reconsidering, if only for a moment. 

He bids his goodbye, wishing Milton a goodnight and narrowly escapes a kiss. He shudders at the thought, pulling his phone out to dial Gemma immediately. 

"Hello?" 

" _Forty eight_ , Gemma." He grits, all but stomping his way into his flat. "What the _fuck?_ " 

"What are you going on about?" She sighs through the receiver. Harry's almost stunned she even has the audacity to sigh. 

"Milton, the man you set me up with, Gemma. _That's_ what I'm talking about." He throws his shoes off, barely missing his favorite lamp. "He could be my bloody father."

" _Oh_ ," Gemma drawls out, seeming to catch on. "Huh. I guess I got my facts mixed up." 

She sounds so blasé about it that Harry wants to reach through the phone and smack her upside the head. 

He breathes out, setting his shoulder and closing his eyes for a moment. "Maybe a bit. Thank you for that, though. It was quite the experience. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to hang up and pretend I didn't just go on a date with someone's potential grandpa. Goodnight." 

He hangs up, throwing his phone onto the couch cushion beside him and turns on the television. If he winds up with a tub of ice cream and a glass of wine, no one has to know. 

 

- _two_ -

 

The following two weeks, Harry almost forgets about the blind date incident, focusing more on work and pretending he doesn't have a sister. He knows he can't avoid her forever, but at least until he's gotten his point across. As of now, he's sat in a dingy pub with Niall, both sipping on their beers and chatting about their weeks. 

"So, I don't know, maybe I'll adopt a ferret after all," Niall shrugs, taking a drink of his pint. 

Harry hums, considering this for a moment before he says, "I think, if your heart's calling out for a ferret, you should follow through." 

Niall nods, eyes wide as he listens. "This. This is why I come to you with my _real_ problems. You always give the best advice." 

Harry smiles around his drink, giggling into it as he takes another swig. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Digging it out, he groans when he sees his sisters face flashing across the screen. 

"Who's it?" Niall asks curiously, attempting to lean over the table and see. 

Harry shakes his head. "Gemma." 

Brows furrowed, Niall says, "So answer it." 

With a sigh, he does just that, swiping his finger and putting his phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Harry," She greets, tone hard. "You're avoiding me." 

"Gemma," He retaliates. "That'd be correct." 

" _Why?_ "

He heaves another great sigh before he says, "You set me up with someone old enough for the senior discount at Denny's." 

In front of him, Niall's eyebrows practically jump off of his forehead. Harry hadn't mentioned the date, if only to save some pride. 

"Harry, honestly. You're so dramatic. Plenty of people hook up with men that age." Gemma huffs. Harry can almost feel the eye roll she's just done.

"I believe the term you're looking for is Sugar Daddies."

Niall almost chokes on his beer, barely containing a laughing fit, much to Harry's displeasure. 

He sends him a hard glare as Gemma barrels on. "Look, I've found someone else-"

"No," He stops her before she can get any further. He will not let her set him up again. "I'm not subjecting myself to that ever again." 

The line goes quiet for a minute, as if she's formulating her plan on how to get Harry to agree. Finally, she says, "He's works at an art gallery. His name is Zayn and he's twenty four. I double checked."

A drawn out sigh escapes his lips as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Gemma-"

"I've actually met him once. He's friends with Charlie." She puts in, obviously thinking that'll ease some of Harry's concern.

"Just because he's friends with your husband, doesn't mean I'll agree to do this." 

"Harry, c'mon." She pleads. "He's really lovely. Quiet and artsy. Much more your type." He'd like to point out, yet again, that he doesn't have a type, but he narrowly refrains.

He bites his lip, staring at Niall, who's staring at him, oblivious yet nodding anyway. Fuck.

"Fuck, fine." He concedes, shaking his head at himself for breaking so easily. 

Gemma squeals on the other end. "Great! How's Friday at six look?" 

"Fine," He sighs. "That's fine." 

Gemma does a bit more squealing before hanging up, leaving Harry to a curious Niall. 

He explains it all, ending with Niall's loud laughter ringing through his ears as he pouts, downing another pint. 

Fuck his sister for knowing he's weak. 

 

 

As Friday rolls around, Harry finds himself yet again getting ready for a date with a stranger. He tousles his hair a bit as he stares into the mirror. He's put in a bit less effort for this date, seeing as Gemma had said the restaurant they'd be meeting at was significantly less upperclass than the last one. With a final look at himself, he heads out the door to go meet Zayn. 

Harry has to admit, he's a bit excited about this one. Zayn sounds like someone he'd of been into in Uni; artsy, calm and effortlessly cool. He hopes he's right about it as he pulls up to their meeting place, pulling in a breath before he steps out of his car. Inside, it isn't as embarrassing to find Zayn as it was Milton. Gemma had at least given him a heads up as to what he'd look like, so he scouts the room. 

His eyes find the man in question, and he makes his way to him. 

When he gets up to the table, Zayn peers up at him from where he's reading the menu and offers a smile. He's ridiculously good looking with his black hair artfully sculpted and the stubble on his chin. Tattoos cover his arms as he outstretches a hand for Harry after he sits. 

"You must be Harry," He says, voice just above a mumble and Harry figures he was right about Zayn. "'M Zayn, nice to meet you." 

Harry takes his hand, smiling. 

"Hi, Gemma's told me a bit about you. Hope that isn't cheating or something." 

That draws another smile from Zayn as he shakes his head. "Nah, I got a few details as well. You're a photographer, right?" 

Harry nods. "Yeah, freelance."

"Is that something you've always enjoyed?" He asks. Harry must admit, the attention he's receiving from someone as nice looking as Zayn has him flushing a bit. 

"It's always been a passion of mine. It was actually my sister who suggested I make it a job instead of a hobby." Harry explains. 

Zayn's eyes seem to peer into his soul as he listens, nodding along. "That's great. Art's been something I've loved since I was a child, so I definitely understand." 

The more they talk, the more Harry realizes they have in common. Zayn's an amazing guy with great aspirations and dreams, much like Harry's own. They talk for well over an hour when something dawns on Harry. There's been this odd feeling he's had since he and Zayn first started talking. They connect on most levels, but there's something missing. 

It hits him that he can see Zayn as someone he'd be friends with for a long while, not someone he'd fall in love with. 

The thought brings his mood down a bit. He'd been hoping this could go somewhere, but he can't see past the fact that while Zayn's attractive, he doesn't see himself with him. He thinks Zayn's realizing that too, as the conversation dies down.  

"So, Harry, this has been lovely." Zayn smiles, and he's really truly beautiful. Harry wishes he could at least get himself to sleep with him, God knows he needs it. But he just doesn't feel that spark. "But, I think maybe we're better as friends."

He lets out a breath, a smile taking his lips. "Thank God, I wasn't sure if we were on the same page. It seems my sister's matchmaking skills are lacking."

Zayn chuckles, his eyes lighting up when he sees he hasn't hurt Harry's feelings. "Maybe a bit. But hey, if you're ever in need of a pub crawl and some FIFA, I'm your guy." 

After that, Harry feels significantly lighter. He didn't walk out of here with a potential boyfriend, but at least he's gained a new friend. 

 

- _three_ -

 

Exactly two days later, Harry is due at his mum's house for a dinner for Robin's birthday. He's dreading it, rightfully so. Gemma was absolutely torn when he'd told her about Zayn, but surprisingly, she understood. Apparently, Zayn's been in love with his ex for the last year and a half, so he can't really be blamed. 

When he pulls up to his mum's, it seems like everyone is already there. He spots a few familiar cars as he trudges up to the door, sliding his sunglasses up into his hair before entering. He greets a few of Robin's friends, smiling and making his way towards the kitchen were he's assuming his mum is. 

He spots her at the stove, giggling about something that Gemma, who's sat at a barstool, has just said. When she stands up, her eyes light up when they meet Harry's. 

She pulls him in for a hug, telling him she's missed him. 

"I'm so glad you could make it, love." She grins at him after letting him go.

"I wouldn't miss it," He tells her honestly, his own smile reaching his lips. "Where is the birthday boy?" 

Anne chuckles, opening the oven again and checking the food. "I think he's out back with a few friends. Showing off the new deck he's built, no doubt." 

Harry grins. "Isn't he a bit too old to be doing such strenuous activities?"

Anne lets out a bright laugh, shaking her head and pointing at him. "You're awful. But to answer your question, yes. Don't tell him that though! He seems to think he's still a sprite young thing, poor old man."

Harry chuckles, taking the seat next to Gemma. 

His sister turns to him when their mum is busy basting the chicken. 

"I've got another potential man for you," She says, eyes twinkling. Harry groans, resting his head in his hands. He literally cannot fathom going on another blind date set up by Gemma. "Before you say no, this one's a good one. His name is Derrick and he's a year younger than you. He goes to Uni with one of Lou's friends. She says he's absolutely brilliant." 

"Gemma," Harry starts, giving her blank look. "This is all starting to sound familiar." 

Gemma brushes him off, tapping her nails on the countertop as she goes on. "He's studying psychology and he's in his last year. He'll be getting his degree soon, y'know."

Harry is anything but impressed. "That's nice for him."

"Harry, come one. I swear this is the last one. I'll never set you up on another date again." She bargains, eyebrow raised. 

Harry matches her look skeptically. "Never?"

"Never." She nods. 

He sticks his hand out and she rolls her eyes, shaking it. 

"If only to get you out of my hair, I'll do this." 

Gemma grins, obviously pleased with herself. "I'll let you know the details tomorrow." 

 

Gemma texts him the following day as planned, telling him that they'll be going on a date to Dave and Busters, which should have been Harry's first red flag. Dubiously, he agrees. She tells him what he looks like and it almost sounds promising, if not for his last two failed attempts at dates. As he prepares for this date, he texts Niall. His best friend wishes him luck, having known about his prior affairs, and adds a thumbs up emoji. 

When he steps inside, he cringes at all of the lights and the noises coming from every which way. He wonders belatedly why this place would seem acceptable, but shakes it off, searching for Derrick. 

He spots him a few feet away, playing on a machine with bright lights and loud buzzer sounds. He steels himself, walking up to him and tapping his shoulder. Derrick turns around, brows furrowed. 

"Um, hi." Harry says awkwardly. "Are you Derrick?" 

An easy smile slips onto Derricks face as he nods. "That's me. You Harry?" 

Harry nods, attempting a smile. 

"Great to meet you! Are you hungry?" Derrick asks promptly, apparently finished with his game. 

Harry shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "I could eat." 

Derrick grins, taking his hand and pulling him along until he finds a table that's suitable, sitting down. Harry follows slowly, sitting himself across from his date. He schools his face when Derrick orders a full platter of ribs for himself, sticking with salmon as his order. He also notices he's ordered a beer with his meal, which is interesting. 

"So, how old are you?" Derrick asks, leaning back in his chair as he messes with a sugar packet. 

"Twenty three." Harry replies, mildly surprised he doesn't already know this information.

"Cool," Derrick smiles. "An older man."

Harry would like to point out he's only a year older than him, but he refrains, forcing another smile. 

Their food comes and Harry isn't prepared for Derrick to immediately dive into his plate. There's sauce everywhere, staining the table top and Derrick's shirt. It's a massacre. It's like Harry's watching a car wreck; he knows he should look away but he just _can't_. It's the most fascinating and simultaneously disgusting thing he's ever seen in his life. 

And that's saying something, because he's seen _Niall_ eat. 

By the time Derrick pauses for a rather large swig of his beer, Harry's almost lost his appetite. 

"This is great," Derrick mumbles through a mouthful of rib. Harry cringes. "You're an awesome date." 

As he says this, Harry's checking every exit, contemplating which one would be faster to get to. 

After they eat, Derrick insists they play some games. He drags Harry to a virtual reality game, laughing loudly when he kills him over and over. It's almost frightening, but Harry is attempting to salvage this date. He plays more games, trying to have a good time. Derrick isn't the best date he's had, far from it, but he's kind of funny, and that counts for something. Maybe.

By the end of the night, Harry has likened him to a child. Which is to say, they will _not_ be going out again. 

Another bust of a date has him texting Gemma, letting her know she's a horrible person as he slips into bed. 

He's just glad she won't be bothering him again. 

 

- _four_ -

 

Not for the first time in his life, Harry has spoken too soon. It takes all of two weeks before Gemma's ringing him again, begging him to go out with "this perfect guy", because he's "really so great" and Harry will "swoon over his large muscles." 

As he contemplates strangling his sister, he can't help but think at this point, it's becoming a game. It's a sad and very childish game, but he can't say he hasn't enjoyed getting free meals every few weeks. He figures he might as well agree to it, that way he and Niall can laugh about it later on. He's almost sure his sister is setting him up on horrendous dates on purpose, but he doesn't say as much when he finally agrees. 

If he didn't know any better, he'd think it was a game for her too. 

He verifies the time and place along with the man's name before hanging up, a smirk on his face. He honestly doubts that this guy will be "the one." 

But he's more than happy to play along. He's having fun, he thinks. These men are all so different, but yet Gemma swears every time that they're all just his type.

At least he's widening his social circle, if Zayn's anything to go by. And it's not like he's having completely miserable times. Milton was charming and his stories were fascinating, Zayn was great despite them not clicking and Derrick, well. Harry had fun playing all those games. He'd needed a night out.

 

At five thirty the following evening, he's preparing for his fourth date in the past two months. His name is James, apparently. That's about all Harry had gotten from Gemma, which makes him think she probably hardly knows this man. For all he knows, she's wondering the streets with a sign that says _please date my brother_ , and James was the first to agree.

He shakes his head at thought, slipping out the door and making his way to the pretentious over priced restaurant that James had picked. It's quiet when he walks in, everyone seeming to speak in hushed tones. Even the waiter who has a cartoon-like pencil thin mustache speaks softly, ushering Harry towards a booth. 

The man sitting there is wearing a black suit, his hair is slicked back and he looks like he's there for a business meeting instead of a date. Harry briefly glances down at his own attire; a black button up with three buttons undone and dark skinny jeans, his old chelsea boots on his feet. It's a far cry from the man in front of him, and he feels as though he should be wearing Gucci or summat. 

Regardless, he sits down, smiling his most charming smile. 

"Harry?" The man asks, voice gruff. 

Despite his hard tone, Harry maintains his smile. "Yes. James?" 

James nods once, eyes raking over Harry. He furrows his brows for a moment before schooling his face, meeting Harry's eyes again. "So, what do you do for a living?" 

Ah, jumping right in then. Still, Harry doesn't flinch. There's a wave of arrogance floating around James and Harry takes it as a challenge. "I'm a freelance photographer, actually."

James scrunches his thick brows again, distaste present on his face. He clears his throat as he says, "That's, uh, interesting." 

Harry nods, smiling again. "I love it. How about you, James?" 

"I own my own law firm." James states. Harry wants to laugh at how polar opposite they are. 

"Oh," He grins, pretending to take any interest in the man before him. "That's nice. Do you enjoy it?"

"It pays a lot of cash, so I can't complain." James replies, smirking. 

It's obvious that not even twenty minutes in, this man thinks he's better than Harry. 

Harry hums, deciding to test some waters here. "I'm sure that's nice. In my opinion, money isn't everything. It's nice, yes, but passion is what drives me. Photography is close to my heart. The money it pays doesn't matter at all when I'm getting to do something I love." He watches as James' face contorts into confusion, like he can't fathom how anyone might think that. 

"That's an interesting take on things." He comments, watching Harry. "I'd have to disagree, though. Money is what makes the world go 'round. Passions don't have a pay off."

Harry considers this for a moment before confidently saying, "We'll have to agree to disagree, James. I stand by my opinion." 

James stares at him, perplexed, before slowly nodding. 

They order their meals and chat a bit. It seems all James is capable of talking about is work. It bores Harry, because he prefers to know someone's likes and dislikes, what makes them tick and the reasons they wake up in the morning. Not the many different ways Andrew the assistant screws up every day. Harry could care less about the things James talks about, but he listens anyway, nodding in the right places. He's beginning to think James talks just hear his own voice.

"And anyway," James barrels on about something pointless that Harry's been paying no mind to. "You don't have to flaunt it. I mean, we get it, _I_ get it. But come on, do we really need to protest it anymore? It seems redundant." 

This catches Harry's attention. He glances up from his plate, eyeing James. "I'm sorry, you've lost me." 

Seemingly unbothered, James fills him in. "I just think there's no point anymore in protesting gay rights. We've gotten far enough. We're able to marry now, so what's the point?" 

Something sparks in Harry, something angry and red. He sits up straighter, staring at the man in front of him. "So, you're saying that just because we're able to get married now, that we should just leave it alone? That we shouldn't ask for more?"

James nods. "Precisely." 

"Right," Harry clears his throat, setting his napkin on his plate. "There are people in the LGBTQ community getting murdered, even still, for just being who they are. For literally just existing. It isn't a matter of a simple piece of paper anymore, James. It's a matter of rights and moral code. Anyone with sense can pick up on that. It's never just been about marriage. It's been about equality and justice. It's about treating people like they're humans, not some sort of plague." He stands up, slipping a bill out of his pocket and slapping it down. "For a lawyer, you're pretty fucking moronic. Have a nice night." 

He's out the door before James can protest, gladly leaving him in the dust. He seethes to Gemma about it through the phone later that night, and she apologizes profusely, angry on his accord. 

This, he thinks, was the worst date he's had. The only upside it had was James' face as he'd walked away. 

 

- _five_ -

 

After that, Gemma leaves him alone for almost a month. When he gets a phone call during a shoot, he excuses himself and slips away to answer it. 

"Haz," Gemma's voice rings through, cheery and bright. It's suspicious. "So, Charlie has this friend who knows someone who said that they're willing to go on a date. Now, I've double checked all of my facts and made absolutely certain of their age and their stance on rights."

Harry sighs, shaking his head. He's working right now and she's honestly trying to set him up on another date. After the last disaster, he isn't sure he's willing to try again. It had been fun, but he thinks he needs to let love find him on it's own. 

"Gems, I don't know." He says, biting his lip. "That last one was awful. I don't know if I've got it in me to try again. Especially with a friend of a friend of a friend." 

"I know. I know. But listen, one more time for old times' sake? Nothing can be worse than that last asshole." 

He smiles a bit, glancing back at the family of four who're waiting on him. "Alright. One last try. Don't let anyone say I was ever a quitter." 

Gemma laughs, agreeing before they hang up. Harry goes back to his shoot, laughing brightly at the small children running amok. He gets a number of great shots, smiling at them all as he shows them to the parents. They pick out some of their favorites and thank him for putting up with them for four hours. Harry tells them it was his pleasure and that they've got a beautiful family. 

They promise they'll recommend him to all of their friends and leave in a flurry of excited children and giggles. Harry smiles after them, thoughts of his own future children roaming through his head. 

When he packs up, he agrees to meet Niall at their same pub. After a round of drinks, he finally spills. 

"Wait, you're telling me you've agreed to another date?" Niall questions, eyebrows raised. Admittedly, Niall thought it was over for Harry, too. 

Harry shrugs, playing with the condensation on his beer. "Yeah, I mean, why not?"

"Because the last one went horribly and you're better than that." Niall states. 

"It's someone different this time and Gemma seems to have confidence that this one is worlds better than the last." 

"She seems to think that about everyone," Niall points out, raising a brow. "Just sayin'."

Harry would have to agree, but he doesn't voice this. Niall only wishes him luck with his new date, Alex. Harry will take all of the luck he can get. 

 

Alex, it would seem, is late. Harry's been sat at the diner they were to meet at for ten minutes with still no sign of him. Granted, he isn't sure what he looks like, but still. Gemma had vaguely mentioned something about blonde hair, so that's what Harry's looking for in each passerby as he stares out the window, waiting. He takes a sip of his water, watching a total of three blonde people walk by the window and sighs. He wonders if this person is even going to show up. He also wonders if being stood up would be the worst thing in the world. 

The universe seems to be against him when it comes to his dating life. 

Suddenly, there's a tap on his shoulder. He turns around to see a pretty young lady with blonde hair staring back at him with a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry," She says, biting her lip. "Would you happen to be Harry?" 

"Yes," He answers slowly, slightly creeped out by the fact that she knows his name. 

"I'm Alex." She smiles, wringing her hands in front of her. 

Harry wants to laugh out loud because _no_ , this _cannot_ possibly be happening to him right now. He cannot have possibly been set up on a blind date with a _woman_. Now he's positive the universe is having a laugh. 

As it is, he smiles back at her because she seems nice enough. He gestures for the spot in front of him. "Sit?" 

She nods, taking the spot and glancing around. Harry watches her, noting how genuinely beautiful she is. If he were straight, he could see himself being delighted at the prospect of being with her. Unfortunately, he isn't either of those things. 

"Um, I'm afraid I've got bad news." He sighs, running a hand through his hair idly. Alex frowns, a small tilt to her pink lips. "I don't think I'm exactly fit for this date." 

Her frown deepens, wide eyes urging him to explain. He feels awful, but he can't help that he isn't interested by any means. 

"You seem lovely, honestly. I can already tell and I've just met you." She smiles kindly at that. "But the thing is, and I'm not sure how this got lost while everyone was setting us up, but I'm gay." 

Alex positively gapes at him, her cheeks going pink from embarrassment. Harry bites his lip, shrugging. After a few moments of silence, she startles him by bursting out laughing, her nose scrunching. 

He finds himself joining in, unable to help it. 

"Oh my _God_ ," She gets out, hand resting on her chest. "This is my luck! I get set up with an incredibly attractive man and he's _gay_!" She snorts despite herself, shoulders shaking. 

Harry giggles along. "'m sorry!"

When she finally calms down, Alex shakes her head, sending him a smile. "This is great. Best date I've had in months." 

Harry chuckles, nodding. "I'd have to say the same." An idea hits him and he smiles slowly. "You know, you're beautiful and you seem very kind. I've got a friend who's single and I think you two would hit it off." 

Alex narrows her eyes as she says, "Is he straight?" 

"Yes," Harry snorts. "He's Irish, too. Quite the looker if I do say so myself." 

Alex bites her lip, considering this for a moment before finally saying, "Show me pictures."

 

 

- _+one_ -

 

After his last date, Gemma finally gave up. It's been three weeks and she's still calling, but never brings up any dates or potential boyfriends. Harry thinks he's in the clear, finally free from her obsession to get him tied down. It wasn't as if he minded too much, he knows her intentions were pure and she only wanted to see him happy. He loves her for it, but he loves her even more now that she's left it alone. 

He's got another day free of work and decides he's going to surprise his mum. He makes the drive down, singing softly to the radio until he parks outside of her house, a grin on his face. 

Anne greets him, smiling wide at his surprise visit and pulling him in tight. She ushers him towards the kitchen before putting on the kettle, sitting down at the table with him. 

"How are you, love?" She asks, eyes still sparkling from his arrival. 

"I'm doing well. Business is picking up even more." He smiles at her. "Aside from that, Niall's got a girlfriend, thanks to me." 

Anne's eyes widen, her lips tilting up. "How'd you manage that?"

He goes into detail as he explains his past few months of unsuccessful dates that Gemma has set him up on, telling her about each and every one. Anne giggles and gasps in all the right places, shaking her head at Gemma's antics to set her brother up. When he finally finishes, Anne lets out a breath.

"Well, that sounds like quite the adventure, Haz." She shakes her head again. "I don't know how you managed to get through some of those." 

Harry laughs. "I'm not sure either. I think it was the promise of free food that held me together." 

Anne smacks his arm lightly. "Harry, my goodness." She bites her lip to hide a smile. "I can't say you're not my child." 

They chat some more with their mugs in hand, his mother telling him about Robin's latest mishaps. Apparently, he's trying to build a shed out back, with the help of exactly no one. Harry figures he's got too much time on his hands. His mother doesn't say as much, but he can tell she agrees with the quiet giggle she makes. He's missed this, spending quiet afternoons with her. He doesn't get to do it as much as he used to with work getting in the way. His mother doesn't complain though, knowing how much his job means to him and how happy it makes him. 

He loves her for it. 

"So, love, after all of those failed attempts, how are you feeling about dating?" Anne asks, seemingly out of nowhere. She's been texting away on her phone for the last five minutes, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

Harry sips from his tea, raising an eyebrow. "Um, I'm not sure. I mean, as far as blind dates go, I don't think I'd want to try that anymore. I've done enough blind dating to last a lifetime." 

Anne hums, texting someone back before peering up at him. "I guess I can understand that. You haven't exactly had the best of luck." 

Harry nods, wondering where this is going. "Not at all." He agrees. "Is there any reason you're asking, mum?"

He's not sure he wants to know the answer, if the looks she's giving him is any indication. 

"Well, I've got a friend." She smirks. He feels like she's in on something that he's oblivious to. "She works with me at the hospital and she's got a son about your age. He's also got quite the lackluster dating history. She thinks he'd be more than willing to go out with you, just to see." 

By the times she's finished, Harry's giving her a blank look. "I don't think so." He goes back to sipping his tea, hoping that's the end of it. 

Anne doesn't seem bothered, much like Gemma. For the first time in his life, Harry curses the Styles family resilience. "His name is Louis and I've personally met him. He's a very sweet boy and I think you two would be perfect for each other." 

"Mum," He sighs, setting his mug down. "I've just told you about the shit Gemma's put me through. How can you possibly think I'd want to do this again?"

"Because I'm your mum," She says simply. "I know what's best for you. Gemma had your best interests at heart, but she doesn't know you like I do, baby. If I didn't think this was a good idea, I wouldn't have brought it up." 

She's right, he knows. No one understands him quite like his mum does. He also knows that if she's met this guy in person and still thinks they'd be a good match, he should at least give it a go. 

One final hoorah, he thinks. 

"Okay," He says, giving a nod. "I'll do it." 

Anne gives him a wide smile, typing away on her phone. "Lovely. I'll let Jay know and she'll relay the message to Louis."

"I trust you." Harry says, biting his lip. 

"You won't regret this, baby." She promises, a stern look in her eyes. 

He hopes she's right.

 

 

Harry is a nervous wreck. He's pacing around his flat, shirt half off and jeans unzipped. He shouldn't be this nervous, but he is. His mum is putting so much hope into this date that it's driving him a bit mad. She'd called earlier to wish him luck, telling him she knows it'll be great. He isn't sure why she's so insistent on this, but he's gone along with it. Apparently, Louis had also been apprehensive about the whole thing. He's glad he's not the only one. 

When he finally pulls himself together, he buttons his shirt and zips his jeans, sighing into the mirror. 

He doesn't want to disappoint his mum. It was one thing to do it to Gemma, but his mum is a whole other level. He hopes that she's right about them getting on, at least for her sake. 

He arrives at the small cafe five minutes before the agreed time, the knot in his stomach still present. With a final glance in the mirror, he pushes himself out of the car and makes his way to the entrance, talking himself down as he walks in. 

It's quiet, only a few people dining. The lady in the front sends him a smile that he returns shakily. His eyes roam the room, seeing mostly couples sat to dine. Finally, they land on a man who's back is facing him. He's got brown hair, like his mum had said, so it must be him. Or at least he hopes it's Louis as he walks up, not wanting to embarrass himself. 

When he reaches him, he clears his throat, causing the man to turn around. 

And wow. Harry really hopes this is Louis. He's stunning with blue eyes and sharp cheekbones, stubble dotting his chin. His brown hair falls across his forehead and Harry wonders if it's as soft as it looks. God, he hopes he gets to find out. 

"Harry?" The man, Louis hopefully, asks. His voice is soft, high and lovely. It matches him, Harry thinks. 

Harry nods, reaching a hand out as he says, "You must be Louis."

Louis takes his hand, barely shaking it. Harry can't help but notice how small it is in his own. He almost doesn't want to let go. 

"Sit, please." Louis smiles and Harry has to remember how to breathe. 

Harry does as he's told, sliding into the seat across from Louis. He feels blue eyes track his movements and he can't help but blush a bit. 

"So, my mum was extremely enthusiastic about this date," Louis chuckles, making Harry smile. "Was yours just as bad or is mine mental?" 

Harry laughs, shaking his head. "No, you aren't alone there. Mine all but sent out wedding invitations before I could even agree." 

Louis' eyes are the brightest shade Harry's ever seen as he listens, crinkles forming in the corner of them. His smile is genuine and wide and Harry thinks that maybe his mum was onto something after all. 

"Good, I'm glad we're in the same boat." Louis grins. "So, Harry, tell me a bit about yourself." 

Harry clears his throat, setting his menu down. "Well, I'm twenty three. I live in London, obviously. I'm a photographer. I enjoy books and romcoms. And I'm an avid cat enthusiast." 

Louis lets out a quite laugh. "All good traits, though I'm afraid I enjoy dogs myself."

"Ah," Harry shakes his head, mock disappointed. "That'll be a deal breaker." 

"But," Louis says, holding a finger up. "I can definitely binge watch some romcoms." 

Harry bites his lip, pretending to think about it before he finally says, "Okay. I suppose I can see past the animal situation." 

"Ah, good. Redemption." Louis smiles at him, making Harry think he could possibly get used to having that smile directed at him. 

"Your turn, then." Harry says. "Tell me about you. Don't leave out any gritty details, either." 

Louis thinks for a moment before saying, "Well, I'm twenty five. I also live in London, _obviously_. I'm a writer, so I enjoy books as well. Romcoms are a must and dogs are my favorite. As for gritty details, well, don't tell anyone but," He leans forward, dropping his voice into a whisper as he says, "Sometimes, I sleep with my socks on." 

Harry lets out a bark of laughter, covering his mouth with a hand as his shoulders shake. Louis seems completely delighted by the fact that he's made Harry laugh like that, biting down on his lip to control a smile. Harry is very aware of the fact that what Louis said wasn't _that_ funny, but. He can't help himself. 

By the time their lunch comes, Harry's practically soaring. Louis is perfect. He's kind and charming and sweet, sensitive but strong and fiercely protective of his family. He loves cheesy movies almost as much as Harry does and laughs when Harry throws puns around like confetti. He's funny, making Harry wheeze over the smallest jokes. He's smart and knows his literature as well as Harry, both of them falling into a deep conversation about their favorite authors and poets. He's absolutely everything that Harry has ever wanted, packed into one small person with a fiery personality. 

He's lovely and Harry is completely smitten. 

"Gemma is going to be so mad," Harry notes offhandedly. 

Louis gives him a questioning look from across the table, his empty plate in front of him. 

"My sister," Harry sighs, smiling. "She's been trying to set me up for ages, sending me on blind date after blind date. They've all gone horribly. So when she finds out that my mum was the one who set us up, and how wonderful it's gone, I'm sure she'll be upset that she isn't the one who gets to brag about it." 

"Well," Louis grins, reaching a hand across the table and placing it over Harry's. Butterflies erupt in his stomach as he wraps his hand around Louis'. "You've got to kiss some frogs before you find a prince." He winks, making Harry laugh again. His stomach is going to be sore come tomorrow. 

"Do you think I've found a prince?" Harry asks, smirking. 

Louis squeezes his hand, looking into his eyes as he says, "No. I think _I_ have." 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm literally giggling. The fluff is real.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr!](https://hansolostyles.tumblr.com/)


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